Nostalgic Collecting

I found this object, a 1966 Roly Poly chime ball, at the markets yesterday (where I ventured with my friend Ernestine but more on this later). I bought it for only $3 which amazed me. It's value seemed so much greater as it was so evocative to me. I do wonder how much of my collecting is externalised nostalgia. I see things and they haunt me. They have a sort of familiar quality and to buy them, to acquire them is like finding a piece of yourself, reclaiming a piece of your past. So then the collection becomes a malleable autobiography, a pictographic self portrait, a diaristic installation.

So I have reclaimed the mantle of 'collector'. I shall just have to find a happy compromise between the imperatives of collecting and the imperatives of a neat, orderly and financially viable life. As Hugo my yoga teacher says it is all about balance.

So now to Ernestine, my old flame. We had not seen each other since our parting, but she called me and suggested we go to the markets, the scene of our first meeting. She made it quite clear this was not an attempt to renew our romance. Was I disappointed? I wasn't sure until I saw her, lovely as always, but then I felt things had settled into the right frame. Friends, then, we pottered about, enjoyed carrot cake and chai tea.

Norma-Jean says the Chime Ball contains a 'mystic entity', but I have yet to see any evidence of such.